I've been writing on and off all day, trying to unravel my thoughts but feeling blocked at every attempt. Sometimes it's difficult to write because there's nothing to say, and other times — like today — expression seems impossible because there's too much to say. I worry about oversharing or being vague. It's funny how easy it is to unload your thoughts to strangers, isn't it? It's so much riskier to be vulnerable and honest with someone who might laugh or leave.
On Monday I was thinking about Trevor a lot, and like the psychic wonder twin he is, today he called from Michigan. He sounded good; I wish we could see each other more than a couple times a year. I tried not to let my breathing give me away, but I cried a little bit because I am so grateful for him. How many times have we carried each other? How solid our friendship is, and how easy it is to talk with him. After 13 years, he already knows my greatest fear. Time and time again, he promises me it is baseless. Sometimes I even believe him.
On Monday I was thinking about Trevor a lot, and like the psychic wonder twin he is, today he called from Michigan. He sounded good; I wish we could see each other more than a couple times a year. I tried not to let my breathing give me away, but I cried a little bit because I am so grateful for him. How many times have we carried each other? How solid our friendship is, and how easy it is to talk with him. After 13 years, he already knows my greatest fear. Time and time again, he promises me it is baseless. Sometimes I even believe him.
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